


To Kill a Brother's Keeper

by Universal_Acid



Series: Fili and Kili and their fucked up relationship [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Emetophilia, Fratricide, Hurt No Comfort, Incest, M/M, Rape, Suicide, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-24 07:58:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/937510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Universal_Acid/pseuds/Universal_Acid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kili has a drinking problem. After years of alcohol abuse, he's finally started to realize the devastating consequences of his constant drunkenness and the inescapable hopelessness of his situation.</p><p>Written as a prequel and an alternate perspective to the events in <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/931823">It's Good to be the King.</a></p><p>Be warned, this is not for the faint of heart.</p><p> </p><p>  <span class="small"><b>Trigger Warnings and Disclaimer:</b> Please note that this story contains graphic descriptions of rape, alcoholism, bodily functions, domestic abuse, victim blaming, murder, and suicide. I do not condone the use of violence and understand that this is a work of fiction. All rights and privileges belong to their licensed, respective owners. This is written solely for personal reasons and not for profit.</span></p>
            </blockquote>





	To Kill a Brother's Keeper

This happened far too often. Far more often than Kili would have liked. Even just once was too often, but by now, after more than a decade, Kili had lost count of how many times that he had done this to himself.

By now, it was happening at least twice a month, if not more often. Sometimes closer to weekly. And it was only getting worse.

As Kili retched up his meal, entire body heaving in pain, blood pounding in his face as everything came up, he wondered how he’d gotten to this point. On his knees, draining himself. Helpless against the feel of hands, holding his hair back. Soft, soothing whispers in his ear. Excruciating pain in his body that only made him vomit harder until he was empty.

He slumped over the privy on their last night in Ered Luin, in the dim haze of blackout drunkenness.

If only he could remember how he’d gotten like this. Maybe then, he’d be able to figure out just why it hurt so much. Maybe then, he could get it to stop. 

* * * * *

It wasn’t often that Kili drank. Or at least, he tried not to drink often, for when he drank he could not help but drink to drunkenness. But somehow, even despite his best efforts, he always seemed to stay at least somewhat tossed. 

He was plenty happy when he was drinking, but he didn’t particularly want to get drunk all the time. Not anymore. Not for years now, since he’d first realized he couldn’t stop once he'd started. But by now, he couldn’t even help but to start. It was just how it happened. He would wake in the morning, head pulsing in pain, and gentle Fili would be there, with breakfast and kindness and a little hair of the dog to help ease the suffering. And Kili would drink, easing the pain of yesterday’s revelry until today was just the same as the day before. It was his routine. But it didn’t mean that he liked it. 

Over the years, drinking had become his constant companion. Right there, haunting his steps, like his ever-present brother. A sweet, tempting friend, whose embrace he always came to regret when he got too drunk to remember anything but the wretched feeling of spewing his guts yet again.

Mahal damn him, why did he do this to himself?

It was not that he disliked the feeling of intoxication, or the rich, delightful taste of malt beer, or even the blissfully numbing sensation of being too wasted to care. It was the way he could never keep it down, and the way it kept him stupid. The way it made Thorin glare at him, disappointed yet again in the antics of his younger, less worthy nephew. The spoiled one, the drunkard. The one who never did anything right.

“How’d this happen?” Kili gasped, breathless, between heaves. Tears leaked unbidden from his clenched eyes and his breath came in short, pained shudders.

“You drank too much,” Fili whispered. “Just let it out. I’m here for you.”

Pain coursed through Kili’s body as the nausea welled up inside him. As he opened his mouth to hurl out the foulness, he felt Fili’s hand upon his back, and heard his brother’s caring words in his ear. He listened to the stabilizing sound of his brother’s compassion. Stayed anchored by his touch.

“It’s okay, nadad,” Fili said. “I love you.”

Kili moaned, miserable.

He trusted Fili, but something was wrong. Something was so very wrong. It shouldn’t hurt this much, vomiting. It never used to. The pain shouldn’t be so rhythmic, deep in the pit of his belly, behind his navel, even between each painful heave.

 _I am never drinking again,_ he thought, already knowing he was deluding himself. _I hate this._

Still, Fili was there for him. To hold him through the pain. To be there when the heaving stopped. To take him back to the bed they shared when consciousness faded and the agony finally ceased.

* * * * *

Kili stared blearily at his breakfast. His head throbbed with the hangover. His insides, from his mouth all the way through to the other end, churned unpleasantly. He no longer remembered a time when he didn't feel pain inside him.

He inhaled deeply, but winced as he caught the sickly smell of the eggs. He closed his eyes against the too-bright sunrise that filtered in through the trees around the campsite.

 _Too early,_ he thought. _Stupid quest, and being awake at the stupid arse-crack of dawn every morning just to ride the stupid pony for hours and hours on end, only to finish the night with yet another drink._

He poked at his eggs. They swam lazily in the bacon grease. He frowned at the nasty-looking breakfast. “Did Bombur cook this?” 

Even the thought of swallowing down the eggs and the oats and the bacon was enough to make him feel nauseated.

“You should eat.” Fili cheerily plopped down on the log beside Kili and gave him a warm smile. He took a bite of an apple and handed a large, full tankard to Kili. “Drink this, too.”

Kili peered down at the pale beverage. He took a tentative sip, and he grimaced when he tasted the hint of alcohol in the drink. He set the tankard down on the ground beside his feet. 

“Don’t want it,” he said.

“No, it’ll ease the headache,” Fili said. “It's watered down, too, so it'll rehydrate you. Go on. It’s okay.”

At his brother’s insistence, Kili reluctantly drank down the ale. It took him some time to get through it, but when he’d finished, he could start to feel the alcohol taking its effect, dulling the edge of his pulsing headache.

Thank Mahal for Fili. How good he was, to look out for his little brother.

“Eat,” Fili urged him. “Trust me, you’ll feel loads better once you get some food in you.”

Kili sighed moodily, but eventually he gave in to Fili’s pressure. He slowly picked at his breakfast, and when he was finished, the greasy breakfast had quelled the hangover and the morning drink had him back in the comforting haze of slight drunkenness. The haze, it seemed, was where he was bound to stay.

* * * * *

At home, in Ered Luin, it had been easy to drink too much. Each night, the sons of the dwarvish lords drank their fill of the rich, dark beer and smoked their pipes, singing long into the night. Each night, Kili sat with his brother, and the two of them would party with their friends and chug their ales, and Kili’s tankard never seemed to empty.

But here, on the road leaving from Bag End, the beer was rationed, and Kili could never drink enough in a single night to black himself out.

He still hadn’t decided if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Kili enjoyed the drink. Of course he did. It was the most enjoyable time of each day, when he could finally drink enough to quell the sense of emptiness that had, some years ago, inexplicably settled inside him. But when his share of the beer ran low, he found himself longing for more, but unable to drink beyond the pitifully limited amount that he’d been allotted.

“You can have mine,” Fili said, smiling. “I’m done.”

Kili smiled and took Fili’s offered drink. “Thanks, nadad.” 

He took a sip off the tankard, enjoying the rich maltiness of the dark amber beer and the way it slowly added to his euphoria until he was spinning.

Fili kept smiling, warmly. His blue eyes twinkled with something attentive and a little eager. He moved in his seat, shifting his weight, and Kili thought he might have slipped something into his pocket. Then Fili laid a hand on Kili’s knee and waited for him to finish the drink.

 _Handsome brother,_ Kili thought as he drained the tankard. _Just five years older, and he already has his beard. Wish I were handsome, too._

“How are you feeling?” Fili asked.

Kili said nothing, but his grin broadened. He knew he must look like some ham-faced idiot right now, beaming and blushing with the drink, heart fluttering a little at the mere touch of his trusted brother’s hand. But that hardly mattered. Nothing mattered once the drink had taken him. He could look like an idiot all night, so long as Fili stayed with him.

“Felling nice,” Kili said. Somehow he was slurring. “Meant… feeling. Feels. Not fells.” 

He laughed, softly. As he did so, something gave an uncomfortable lurch inside him. Suddenly, the distinct and familiar feeling of nausea settled into his insides, and he gave a low groan.

_You fucking idiot, you always drink too much._

“Oh, Fili…” Kili murmured. He massaged his stomach, hoping to ease the discomfort, but it only made it worse. “Oh, no…”

He scrambled to his feet and staggered away from the company, off into the trees, with Fili close on his heels.

Here in the darkness of the forest, the shadows seemed to meld together with the trees that cast them. Everything was spinning. Fading in and out of being. So hard to think straight in the spiraling, descending darkness. Near-impossible to quell the building sickness inside him.

In his haste to get away from the camp, his foot tangled in the underbrush, and he lost his balance. He fell to the earth just as he lost control of himself. Pain ripped through him as everything came up.

“Kili!” In an instant, Fili was right there beside him. Breath hot on Kili’s ear. “We’re too close to camp. Come on!”

Fili hooked an arm around Kili’s middle and dragged him back to his feet. The world writhed around Kili as Fili dragged him deeper into the woods. He hung his head, concentrated on keeping his insides on the inside, and on keeping down the contents of his stomach instead of paying attention to where Fili was taking him.

In the concentration, the blackout finally claimed him.

* * * * *

Excruciating pain brought him out of the night as he retched onto the forest floor. Waves of agony coursed through his body, starting all the way down in his hindquarters and spreading like pulsating fire up through his guts.

“Oh, Kili…” Fili’s voice. Behind him.

He shuddered in pain as he retched up bile and dryness. Still too much pain.

 _You know this feeling,_ a voice of warning said inside his head. _It’s happened before, and it’s not just being sick. Vomiting hurts, but not this much. Something’s wrong. Something’s terribly wrong._

Kili hissed in a sharp breath and focused on the sensations in his body. A wave of contraction pulsed deep through the pit of his belly, but it was too low and too buried to be in his stomach. Then, he felt the distinctive sensation of something _moving_ inside him.

“Am I messing myself?” Kili's words came out in a slurred, unintelligible whimper. The humiliation burned hot on his neck and he hung his head as he lost control of his body.

The thing inside him moved in and out, faster and more painful with each passing second. Kili bit back a sob of agony as something pulled at his hair. He heard Fili’s gasp heavily behind him, and felt something shuddering through him. Something that felt like liquid poured into him in spurts.

Eventually, the thing stopped moving. Then it was pulled out of him. Its absence left him vacant, but not relieved.

“Fi…” Kili closed his eyes and listened for the comforting voice of his brother.

“I’ll take care of you,” Fili whispered. “I’m so glad you’re mine.”

Kili swallowed, confused. What did that mean, _mine?_ As in, Fili’s brother? Of course, he was Fili’s brother. Who else would he be? But no, there was something else in the way that Fili had said it, something chilling and possessive. The tone made the hair on the back of Kili’s neck stand up in slow, creeping dread.

He flinched when he felt the touch of something soft on the exit from his body. Like fabric. Cleaning away the messiness. Then he felt Fili’s hands on his trousers, pulling them up over his backside, and he knew then that he’d been half naked.

_What in Durin’s name is going on?_

Fortunately, as Fili closed his strong, stabilizing hands on Kili’s waist, the darkness came back, and all pain disappeared into the comforting numbness.

* * * * *

Kili sat outside the troll hoard, keeping watch with Dori and Bilbo. His head throbbed with the lack of sleep and the soberness that had settled in after a night of not drinking. He only listened tangentially to the conversation of the other two.

“So, dwarf women look just like dwarf men?” Bilbo asked. He sounded shocked and flabbergasted and fascinated all at once. “Do they grow beards?”

“Aye,” Dori said, cheerfully. “Highly elegant ones, too. I myself have taken some wonderful grooming advice from some well-coiffed dwarvish ladies.” 

Kili hazarded a glance over at the other two. He watched as Dori proudly stroked his elaborate, well-tended braids. Kili huffed out a breath to get a lock of limp, slightly greasy hair out of his face. The dark hair just flopped in front of his eyes. Disobedient and uncontrollable, like the rest of his ugly body.

“And… dwarvish ladies are still…” Bilbo stammered a little. He gestured tentatively towards his groin. “You know.”

“Ladies?” Dori gave a refined-sounding sniff, but he had a twinkle in his eye. “Why, certainly. Though unless you were a dwarf, you would never be able to tell she was a lady by looking at her unless you pulled up her skirts. Which, of course, she would beat you black and blue for even daring to attempt.”

Bilbo raised his eyebrows in surprise. 

“It’s much safer for our women than for the women of other races.” Dori’s smile faded into something of a rueful frown. “Dwarf women can pass as dwarf men, and often avoid some of the… pains… that women of other less sturdy races sometimes endure.”

“What do you mean?” Bilbo asked. His genuine expression of puzzlement betrayed his innocence. 

“Oh, little Bilbo,” Dori said, darkly. He looked deeply concerned. “There are terrible things that some men do to women, and less often, to each other. You hobbits experience sensual pleasure, yes?”

Bilbo blushed and stammered furiously. “I… I… well, yes. But… it’s not something we discuss!”

“Well, let me warn you, Master Baggins,” Dori said, “That out here, in the world of the tall people, there are those out there who, if they wanted to, could harm you. If you are ever captured, or made to be subordinate to another who does not have your well-being in mind, I fear the type of torture one might subject you to. After all, you are… How should I say it? Rather slight.”

Bilbo gasped. “But… but! How could someone do that to a male?”

When Dori stayed silent, a wave of cold horror washed through Kili as it suddenly dawned on him what they were talking about.

“Oh my...” Bilbo murmured, horrified.

He might as well have spoken for Kili.

The world gave a lurch around Kili and started spinning. His head began to pulse and the painful, confusing memories came into razor-sharp focus as he realized what had happened a few nights prior.

And before that. For years.

“No…” Kili whispered. The blood drained from his face.

It wasn't true. It _couldn’t_ be true. Not Fili. They were brothers. Brothers watched out for each other. Brothers looked after each other. And Kili trusted Fili with everything, for Fili was so good to him. He always had been. He would never harm Kili.

Would he?

It suddenly occurred to Kili that maybe Fili’s goodness, always present but so much more abundant after a night of heavy drinking, was due to the fact that only hours before, he’d used Kili’s body for pleasure.

The horrifying possibility sank like lead through Kili's insides.

Kili jumped as he felt the hand on his shoulder. His heart twisted painfully in his chest as he saw Fili, standing there in front of him, towering over him, smiling warmly.

“Are you all right?” Fili asked. “You look a little shaken.”

“I’m… fine.” Kili lied. “Just… didn’t like the trolls.”

“It is a little frightening, the threat of being eaten,” Fili said. He gently brushed his fingers on Kili’s cheek. The touch set Kili’s skin crawling. “It makes you feel powerless, doesn’t it? And no one likes that feeling.”

Kili swallowed hard and gave Fili a weak nod. Eventually, thankfully, Fili let him go. As the rest of the company emerged from the troll hoard and Fili caught up with them, Kili stared after his brother, immobilized by shock.

From behind and from a distance, Fili looked perfectly harmless. Fili was gentle as dwarfs went, and noble of stature and spirit. He couldn’t be a rapist. Not Fili. Not Kili’s own beloved brother.

“Kili! Come.”

Kili startled yet again at his uncle’s impatient bark. He winced and got to his feet. As he did so, a low pulsing sensation in the lower parts of his body warned him that as much as he wanted to convince himself of the lie, he already knew the painful, brutal truth about what existed between him and Fili.

As the shame welled up inside him, he closed his eyes and stemmed the tears before they could betray his loss of dignity, and his stupid, stupid decision to drink himself into Fili’s embrace.

It was his fault, Kili knew. It was all Kili’s fault. There was no one to blame but him.

* * * * *

It took the events in Rivendell to confirm what Kili had suspected since that morning.

Through the dinner and the revelries that followed, he sipped the offered wine and spat it out on the ground when Fili wasn’t looking. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done, to spit out the alcohol, but he managed it somehow. His life was on the line. 

As he drank and spit his way through seven glasses of the strong stuff, he was able to keep his mind reasonably clear. He kept a close watch on Fili. He played along with Fili’s increasingly affectionate touches. He pretended to get smash drunk when he was only barely tipsy. Like that, he noticed things he’d never noticed before. Like the way that Fili hardly touched his own wine. Or the little vial of white crystals that Fili pulled discreetly from his pocket. Or how Fili waited until everyone was drunk before he slipped a tiny amount of the drug into Kili’s last glass of wine. Or the way that Kili only started feeling nauseous after drinking from the poisoned cup.

That night, as Kili staggered off into the gardens to empty his body of the poison, he was acutely aware of Fili following him, like a predator stalking prey. Waiting for the perfect chance to strike.

Fili took his chance the moment that Kili stumbled to the garden stream to hurl the contents of his stomach into the water. Kili endured the pain as his body forced out everything, and he endured the revolting touch as Fili caressed him like a lover.

“Shh, Kili… There, there.”

Kili gritted his teeth as Fili pulled his hair out of his face and held it fast in an immobilizing fist. Not that he was going to fight anyways. He had to know the truth. He had to be certain that Fili was the monster Kili feared he was.

“Just let it out.”

As if on command, a sudden wave of agony pushed the foulness up and out of Kili’s body. 

“Hurts, Fi…” he groaned. He wanted to say more, to say, _Stop! Get your hands off me, you monster, I’ll fucking kill you if you do this._ But the sickness kept him from speaking.

Kili started to shake as Fili went to work on the laces of his trousers and slipped a possessive hand inside. As Fili closed a fist around Kili’s flaccid cock, Kili gave a sharp, involuntary gasp as he felt himself begin to stiffen.

“Ahh, Fili!” – Kili tried to protest, but his words were cut off by the surge of another wave of sickness. “Ohh…”

“Just let it happen,” Fili urged. His voice was cloying in its sticky, revolting sweetness. “It’ll be over soon. I promise.”

Fili let go of Kili’s cock in favor of tugging at the waistband of Kili’s trousers. He swiftly pulled them down around Kili’s thighs, exposing everything. 

Kili gasped as Fili laid him bare. Everything in his body tensed as the dread and the nausea poured through him. He trembled as he heard the rustling of Fili’s hands in fabric. He knew exactly what was to come, and he knew that he was powerless to stop it.

His moan of protest was coupled with an excruciating wave of sickness as he felt Fili’s fingers, slicked with something, touch the most vulnerable part of his body. Violating him as they pushed their way inside. Everything tightened as Fili buried the fingers inside him. Kili retched again and his body convulsed in pain, but not even that could stop Fili from loosening him up as his body rid itself of the poison.

Fili sighed. He sounded delighted. 

When Fili pulled his fingers out, Kili shuddered, hoping it was over, but then he felt something smoother, rounder, and far larger than fingers pressing into him.

Kili moaned desperately as his body opened, wholly against his will, to let Fili inside. He suddenly felt the thing pushing its way up into his passageway, filling him. The sensation was familiar, horrifying, and as he gave a sudden retch of revulsion into the stream. The untempered agony of being taken rushed through his body, and he realized just how long this had been going on.

For years, Fili had been getting him sick in order to fuck him. For years, he'd been getting him drunk to keep him from remembering.

At the pain of the betrayal, Kili began to weep. He had trusted Fili with his life. Now, Fili might as well be killing him.

Kili collapsed into the moss as the tears poured down his face. As Fili brutalized him, his body shuddered out the dry, painful heaves of nausea. Encouraged by Kili's submission, Fili started pumping hard into him. An immobilizing wave of pain spread through Kili’s muscles, and when it had passed, he could no longer control his limbs. He couldn’t move. He might as well be dead. All he could do was lie there, slumped with his arse in the air, his tears streaking down his befouled face as he got fucked by his own brother.

“You like this, don’t you?” Fili whispered in over Kili’s ear. “You adorable little drunkard, always needing me to look after you. What’d you expect but… this? Ohh, this…” 

Kili moaned, humiliated. He hadn’t needed Fili to remind him that he’d brought this on himself.

“Feels so good, Kili…”

A soft whimper of pain escaped Kili’s lips. “Please stop, it hurts!” he tried to cry. But in the pain, he couldn’t form the words, and all that came out, in a low, pathetic murmur was, “Hurts.”

Fili didn’t stop. He just pounded harder. When another sudden wave of heaving nausea ripped through Kili’s body, he jerked forward and retched dry into the air. Fili’s agonizing thrusts quickened until Kili heard him gasp out, shuddering in pleasure.

“Ohh, Kili!”

Waves of liquid spilled deep into Kili’s body with each long and brutal thrust. Kili’s muscles contracted of their own accord around Fili’s cock, wringing him dry. 

When Fili finished, he collapsed, breathless, onto Kili’s motionless body. He lay there for a moment, heavy on Kili’s back, still sickeningly thick and sticky inside him. 

Silence fell. In the calm that follows the violence, a single, clear, perfect thought entered Kili’s sober mind.

_I will kill you for what you’ve done._

Kili gave a soft gasp as Fili suddenly jerked himself free. He swallowed, furious, as he felt Fili’s filth dribbling out of him, down his skin and over his stones, only to be scooped up by Fili’s fingertip and stuffed back up into his body.

Fili pulled Kili’s hair back and leaned in over his ear and whispered, “Are you better, nadadith?”

Kili said nothing. He swallowed, miserable, drained of everything but resignation to what he had to do next.

He didn’t want to. This was his brother. And though Fili was a rapist, he was still Kili’s closest kin. And if he was caught, which he no doubt would be, they would hang him for fratricide and treason and leave his body for the crows. No tomb of stone for Prince Kili, son of Dis, the rape victim and brother-killer.

But Fili would still be dead. He'd still get what he deserved.

Kili flinched as Fili pressed a kiss to his cheek and wiped the mess from his mouth and chin. The shame burned as Fili cleaned the other parts of his body, fussed a little behind Kili, out of sight, and then finally pulled Kili’s trousers back up over his exposed skin. 

“Come on,” Fili murmured. He hooked his hands under Kili’s arms and hauled him to his feet. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Kili staggered along with Fili back towards the house of Elrond. He barely paid attention as Fili hoisted him into bed and left him there. Kili closed his eyes and curled his knees to his chest. He was exhausted and in pain, but he could not let himself sleep. He lay there, pretending to rest, waiting, as Fili settled down beside him. Hand draped possessively over Kili’s backside. After what seemed like hours, Fili’s breathing evened out into the calm of deep slumber.

Carefully, Kili inched his way out from beneath his brother’s hand. He warily watched Fili move a little in his sleep. Fili was dreaming, but he did not wake. 

Kili breathed a silent sigh of relief as he got up out of the bed. Moving as quietly as he could, he crept from the bed to the desk on the other side of the bedroom and silently looked into the drawers, in search of the right tool. He found it in the third drawer down. 

As he pulled the letter opener from its tiny sheath, he glanced back over his shoulder at his monster of a brother. Fili was still asleep. Perfectly helpless. He would never hurt Kili again.

Kili’s feet dragged him like a puppet to Fili’s side. Without hesitation, he positioned the letter opener over his brother’s heart. He drove the blade straight down between Fili’s ribs, burying it in his chest.

Fili’s eyes flew open as he gasped in shock, realizing instantly what was happening. Kili watched the horror and the betrayal dance beautifully across Fili’s face. He kept a firm grip on the letter opener as Fili struggled for a moment, fighting for his life, but then, slowly, the life went out of those wretched blue eyes, and Fili went still.

Kili smiled faintly, only to himself. 

Fili was dead. Kili was free.

He pulled the letter opener from Fili’s chest with a sickening squelch. He kept it clenched in his fist and rejoined his brother in the bed. He settled down against the ornate headboard and stretched out his legs and dropped his head back against the carved wood.

How good it felt, to be free. How good it would be to live a life like this, free from the monsters and the rapists and the drink. But that freedom, sweet as it was, would not last. It would be gone by morning, when the company learned of Fili's death.

There was no life for Kili after the murder. No life ever but betrayal and death. And even if Kili fled now, sooner or later, someone would find Fili’s body, and they would know who had murdered him. Someone smarter and more experienced than Kili – maybe Balin, _or Mahal,_ maybe even Thorin – would figure out what had been happening for years under all their big noses. Then they would come for Kili, and he would never escape the sentencing.

Kili sighed sadly, and he sniffled back the stinging sorrow for the cruelty of his fate.

He reached for his brother’s limp hand and intertwined his fingers with those of the dead. Then he positioned the letter opener at his throat, beneath his beardless chin. He closed his eyes, took one last sweet breath, and sliced the blade through his artery. As his lifeblood came pulsing out of him, he resigned himself to death. There, in death, he would be free. There in death, the pain would cease.

As the comforting night settled into his being, Kili surrendered to his end, and he embraced the eternal peace that was ceasing to exist.


End file.
